Another Heart Calls
by thatsacoke
Summary: Calista has a job as an intern at the studio, where she meets and befriends none other than Chad Dylan Cooper.


**let me start by saying that as much as i love chad dylan cooper, i'm not a channy fan. the only fan-fictions i saw on here were channy, so i decided to make a chad d. c./OC story. i think that's all. i hope you all enjoy. oh yeah, i don't own any of the sonny with a chance names places, and so on. you get the picture.**

* * *

Hollywood. A city known to be glamorous and full of super-stars and opportunities to make it big. My opportunity arrived when I turned eighteen and got accepted into the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising in Los Angeles, California. Oh, let me tell you a bit about myself. My name is Calista Jamison. Yeah, I know. Calista is a sort of out there name, but blame my parents. My friends usually call me by my full first name. I've also gotten Cal, Callie, and Lis, though. I'm originally from New York and my parents were pretty disappointed when I didn't go to college there, but I just had to get away and start over. That included my new job. An internship for the studio that hosted Mackenzie Falls, So Random, Meal or No Meal, and so on. I was to be an assistant for the Costume Designer/Stylist for all of the shows. See, fashion has always been my true passion, and though this place was no _Vogue_, it was a pretty good start if I do say so myself.

I was to start at the studio the summer before I began college, and I couldn't be more excited for my first day. It was the kind of excitement that made it hard to sleep, so I was awake bright and early, even though I didn't have to be at work till eleven thirty. I decided to take a nice long bath and spend an unnecessary long time on my hair and make-up. And my outfit? Well, since fashion was my specialty and not to mention my job, I had to dress to impress. That included a high-waisted crimson skirt over a simply white and grey shirt. With my hair in soft-brown curls, I was ready to go.

"I'm here for Cassandra Kent. I'm the new intern," I said with a bright smile. The twenty-something girl at the counter didn't bother to look up, but instead typed something on the computer with her acrylic nails. After clicking on something she opened a drawer of her desk and pulled something out.

"Here's your ID badge," she said blandly as she handed my a laminated card attatched to a lanyard. "Just through those doors and to the end of the hallway. Her office should be marked," she girl instructed me, pointing towards a pair of double glass doors. I took that as my cue to leave and thanked her before I made my way through the doors. I could have sworn I heard her say "good luck" before the doors had closed and I was on my way down the hall.

The receptionist had been right; the door had her name and occupation marked. I knocked twice and immediately heard a 'come in' from the other side. I opened the door slowly and smiled at the woman sitting at the desk. From my guess she had to be in her late forties. She had straight black hair that was cut at a drastic angle; very Victoria Beckham. Her outfit was sleek; very stylish, yet professional at the same time. And the look on her face, well, it was a look of distaste. When she saw me, her look didn't change.

"Sit," she instructed me before turning around to her filling cabinet. I did what I was told and clutched my favorite new orange Balenciaga bag tightly. I watched as Cassandra pulled out a file and handed it to me across the desk.

"That includes my schedule for this week, a list of numbers you will need, and my preferences for meals," she explained as a flipped through the numerous papers. Wow, her agenda was packed. I didn't know being a stylist required this many appointments. And with designers, too! This job would definitely get me more connections than I had expected. "Now, I need my coffee," she stated simply. And with that she made a shooing motion with her hand and I was out the door, a little confused.

I opened the folder, not looking where I was going as I was walking down the hall, and looked for any reference to what coffee Cassandra would want. Nothing. I sighed in frustration, not knowing what to do. There was no way I was going back to ask her. She already looked upset that I didn't have the coffee when I had arrived. I groaned as I walked out into the main office.

"You must be Cassandra Kent's new intern," spoke someone. My attention was drawn to the reception desk where the women no longer sat, but a thirty year old man with glasses. His voice was somewhat flamboyant, but I wasn't one to judge a book by it's cover. He seemed more friendly than the other people I had encountered. I could tell I would like this guy.

"How could you tell?" I asked with a small laugh. He smiled at me.

"Confused look, folder, impeccable style." I blushed slightly. I was never good with compliments.

"I'm supposed to be getting her coffee, but she didn't specify what kind," I told him, resting my elbows on the counter. I sighed. The guy, who's name I noticed was Oscar (ID badge), grabbed a post-it note and scribbled something on it.

"Here. A grande chai latte with extra cinnamon from Starbucks. Oh, and I also wrote down my order if that wouldn't be a problem," he told me.

"Well, I'm going to be there anyways, so why not?" I replied with a shrug. This caused a woman walking by to stop.

"Oh, you are heading to Starbucks? Mind getting me a venti Java Chip Frap?" she asked. "Sure," I responded, scribbling the order on the post it next to the words 'platinum blonde', so I knew who it was for. A guy who I'm pretty certain was the host of Meal or No Meal must have overheard because he made a request too. By the time I was done, I had six orders for coffee. _Well, this will be fun_ I thought as I made my way out the door and to my car.


End file.
